


spare parts

by Merricat_Blackwood



Series: strike me down series [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bare minimum of editing, Bonus Content, Deleted Scenes, Ficlet Collection, Just for funsies, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-10-06 17:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merricat_Blackwood/pseuds/Merricat_Blackwood
Summary: quick glimpses into the junk drawer of the strike me down universe.





	1. scarred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dude. My eyes are up here."

\--- 

Finn had once – not very long ago at all – told Kylo Ren (oops, his name is Ben now, that's what Rey calls him, Finn just has a hard time thinking of it after all those First Order years) that he gave him (Finn) the creeps. That's still true.

Sort of.

Sometimes.

But it's not true all the time. Maybe that started to change when they got caught in the battle on D'Qar, and when debris from an explosion nearby had rained down over them, the other man had used the Force to shield them both.

When Finn happened to mention that to Poe – he always hesitated to mention Kylo Ren to Poe, but he got tired of censoring himself – Poe had glowered and said it was “probably just instinct.”

“But that means his instinct was to save me too,” Finn pointed out.

Poe had not liked that. Ever since Ren – _Ben, Ben Solo _– had shown up with Rey and Chewie and Luke Skywalker, Poe had been torn, and was grumpy about it. Finn understood, kind of. On the one hand, Kylo Ren was a First Order monster who had tortured Poe for information … and gotten it. The torture itself, Finn believed, was not what truly stung Poe. It was the fact that he had broken under it. That shamed him. On the other hand, Ben Solo was General Organa's son, and she was thrilled to have him back. And Poe idolized Leia. And Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were the same person. So Poe was pretty much pissed off whenever the subject came up.

Maybe it was the ironic twist that Finn might owe his life to the guy who had almost killed him … but actually, Finn thought the way he saw Kylo-Ben had probably started changing when Rey sat down with him the evening they arrived on the base and told him everything that had happened since the last time they were together. It was a _lot_. A lot to take in at once, but Rey found in Finn a willing audience. She was honest about everything: not only did she and Mister Dark-Side Crazypants have a mystical bond through the Force, but hey, she was also kind of was starting to like him.

The crazy thing was, she had thought that the stuff she was telling Finn – the stuff about Kylo-Ben mostly – was going to make him not see her the same way, not want to be her friend anymore. As if anything could ever do that. As if the fact that she could look past the worst of someone and find the best of them and bring it to the surface could ever be anything but wonderful. As if Finn had not been touched by it, and made better for it, too.

Was it going to be easy to try and see the guy who'd put him in a coma as just a man, capable of being, if not “good” exactly, at least not actively terrifying? No, it wouldn't be easy. But Finn, for Rey's sake if for no other reason, was going to try.

That was part of the reason why, after the evacuation and their relocation to the space station (which Finn still thought was the coolest thing ever) Finn had spoken up and claimed the living quarters next to Ben Solo's, separated only by a shared fresher room.

“Are you crazy?” Poe had asked incredulously when he heard. “Do you want him to be able to come in and kill you in your sleep?”

“That's not really his style,” Finn had said, “and besides ...” that's when he told Poe about Ren ... Solo ... keeping him from getting flattened in the battle. Poe still felt like Finn was crazy, but Finn felt like he'd made the right decision. Sure, he and Kylo-Ben had some bad blood between them – literally – but Finn was almost sure that he was in no danger from the other man anymore. The violence he had been on the receiving end of on Starkiller Base was born from very specific circumstances which were unlikely to be duplicated.

It was still not easy, though.

Reconciling the things he had witnessed Kylo Ren doing with the things Rey told him about Ben Solo was not impossible, but Finn had realized, after some trying, that he could not make it happen overnight. It would take time. Rey had the Force to help her, but Finn just had his own heart and a willingness to try.

It was hard for Finn to realize that there things he should not tell Poe. His first friend, ever! But he was learning that your first friend isn't necessarily your best friend.

His best friend was Rey. And what was important to her was important to him.

And Ben Solo is very important to Rey.

Finn has learned to look for things he is familiar with and use them as jumping off points to dealing with the things he is unsure of. When he sees signs of Han Solo in the son who killed him, it's unsettling and eerie and heart-hurting but also, it gives Finn a frame of reference he didn't have before. Makes it easier to talk to the guy. Who actually seems like he listens. Who talks back to Finn without any discernible superiority or scorn. It's still weird.

Things take a turn for the even weirder one day (or is it night? Does it matter? Finn's tired and getting ready for bed) when he's in the fresher room, just with a towel around his waist, shaving. The door on the other side opens without warning and the big guy blunders in, stopping like he's run into a wall when he catches sight of Finn, who feels a sharp sting in his cheek where the razor slipped.

“Whoa, man,” he says, wincing and putting a hand to his cheek. “Knock much?” His fingers come away wet.

“You're bleeding.” Kylo-Ben's voice is flat.

“That's true.” Finn sighs, the worst of the pain is past, it's just a nick. Clean his skin, slap some bacta on it, he won't even notice by this time tomorrow. He waits for his sort-of roommate to say something or, hopefully, leave, but instead, he's staring at Finn with a wide-eyed, wobbly-mouthed look. No, not at Finn. At Finn's back.

Finn forgets about the scar, a lot of time. His wounds have all healed nicely. It stopped hurting a few weeks ago, and it's mostly slipped his mind since then. If the scar was on his face, like Ben's, he would likely not forget it so easily, but it's not like he can really see his back, nor does he spend enough time around other people without a shirt on for them to have an opportunity to remind him. And he's certainly not insecure about it, when he does recall it, or happen to catch a glimpse of it when he turns certain ways in front of the mirror.

But he's insecure now … or at least, uncomfortable. The only way he can be okay – or the only way he's used to being okay – with Ben Solo is by not thinking about the fight. But right now, the ugly truth is laid bare, literally, between them. The scar is pretty huge, and Kylo-Ben can't seem to stop staring at it. His eyes look glassy, and the corners of his mouth pull down, crumpled in an expression like a grimace. What is he thinking?

“Dude,” Finn hears himself saying, his voice a little raw, but strong and clear enough. “My eyes are up here.”

Kylo-Ben flinches. He looks shocked, like a drowning person just breaking the surface of the water.

“I … I'm sorry,” he mutters, his eyes downcast now, ruffled dark hair spilling over his forehead, his hands knotted into nervous fists. "I'm sorry." 

“Don't worry about it,” Finn says with sudden calm, and after a moment of hesitation, Kylo-Ben ducks out of the fresher room as suddenly as he had appeared, the door sliding closed behind him without being touched.

It isn't until a few moments later, dabbing the blood from the cut on his face and idly staring at his own eyes in the mirror, that Finn realizes Ben might not have been apologizing for staring, but for making the scar.

\--- 


	2. eavesdrop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't know how you can talk to him like he's ...”  
“Like he's what? Human?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a deleted scene from a few chapters ago

Fresh from the shower, dressed in his sleeping clothes, hair still wet, Ben knocks on the other door, Finn's door.

“Come in,” Finn calls out, a note of curious caution in his voice. The door slides open and Ben peeks in to see Finn perched on his bunk and Poe Dameron slouched in a chair next to him, wearing an intense frown and a blaster at his side. His hand dangles close to the blaster, fingers flexing, ready. Ben pauses, and Finn's eyes move to where he's looking, and narrow at Poe.

“Poe, it's fine,” Finn mutters.

Poe's only response is a suspicious glare.

“What's up?” Finn asks Ben, ignoring Poe. Ben heartily wishes he could do so easily.

“I thought,” he says quietly and simply, “that I'd let you know I was done with the shower. If you wanted to use it. And there's more soap. And towels.”

“Oh, okay.” Finn's shoulders relax, and he produces a neutral smile. “Thanks, man.”

With a curt nod that is the only response he can manage, Ben retreats behind the closing door. He fully intends to make good his retreat and go back into his own room, where Tencee waits, and trade some good-natured insults with the droid before going to sleep. But before he can get far enough away, Poe Dameron's voice drifts through the door and holds him in place with hooks of derision.

“'Thanks, man'? Seriously, Finn?”

Finn's reply is prompt and light. “What do you want me to call him? 'Lord Ren?' 'Your Scaryness'?”

Poe blows out a noisy breath. “I just don't get how you can joke about this. How you can fall asleep with just a fresher room between him and you. I don't know how you can talk to him like he's ...”

“Like he's what? Human?”

Poe's voice is tight when he speaks again. “Like he didn't try to kill you.”

Ben's feet won't move. His ears won't stop listening. His hands are fists at his sides, and he can't unclench them. None of this should matter. He should be able to walk away from it, never give it another thought. Poe Dameron has every right to mistrust him, even hate him, and who cares if he does?

_I don't care, _Ben thinks fiercely, but if he doesn't care then why can't he walk away? Why is he frozen to the spot, needing to know what they're saying about him?

“Poe, I know what he did. I was there.” There's irony in Finn's voice. “And I was also there on D'Qar, when I'm pretty sure he saved my life. So I'm trying to make a fresh start, here.”

“If he hadn't taken up with the First Order, no one would have needed saving in the first place,” Poe says bitterly.

“That's not true,” Finn says immediately. “I grew up with them, remember? They would have done exactly what they've done, with or without him. And even if they hadn't, what does that matter now? All that's over and done with. He's with the Resistance now.

Poe says with gloom “We'll see how that goes.”

“General Organa trusts him,” Finn points out. “Shouldn't that be enough?”

Poe's momentary silence is a pained one. It's so quiet that all Ben can hear is the drip drip drip of water sliding from his wet hair and splattering onto the floor. He's surprised Finn and Poe can't hear it too.

“Any other time,” Poe says finally, his voice strained, “that would be more than enough for me. But he's … he's her son. Her judgment could be compromised.”

“I think you're wrong about that,” Finn says. “But even if you're right, what about Rey?”

“What about her?”

Finn sighs like Poe is being dense. “If Rey can find a reason to give him a chance after what happened on Starkiller Base, that's more than good enough for me.”

Poe lets another silence fall, a longer silence. Then he says “Oh, buddy.”

“_Oh buddy_ what? Don't “oh buddy” me. What is that supposed to mean?”

“Hold on,” says Poe, “I'm trying to think of a polite way to say this. Nah, I'm just gonna say it. I'm not sure Rey's judgment is the best when it comes to Kylo Ren, either.”

“Okay,” Finn says, drawing out the word far longer than it normally is. “What the hell?”

“Finn, I'm not trying to upset you, and I'm not trying to be rude, but as far as I can see, there's only one reason a girl like Rey would give a nerve-burner like him a chance.”

Finn's voice is dark. “What are you trying to say, Poe?”

Poe says “I think you know.”

“Do _you_ know what you're trying to say, though?” Finn demands, his words hard-edged at the perceived insult to Rey. “Because you seem to be having a hard time getting the words to come out of your mouth.”

“I just don't want to make you mad, buddy.”

“This isn't about me,” Finn says. “This is about Rey. What, you think he's tricked her into trusting him, some creepy way?”

Ben knows he should stop listening he should have stopped listening a long time ago he's already heard too much he doesn't want to hear this …

“I think,” Poe says with an upsetting degree of reasonableness and calm, “that she has feelings for him and those feelings are clouding her judgment. Hell, her judgment would have to be clouded to have feelings for him in the first place. There, I said it.”

Finn takes a moment before replying, when he does, his voice is just as calm. “Poe. I get what you're saying, and I know you're just trying to help, but Rey's feelings are her own business.”

“Until they compromise the Resistance and get us all killed,” Poe mutters.

Finn speaks up again, no longer patient. “You don't know Rey like I do. Hell, you don't know _him_ like I do. She's not an idiot, and he's not a liar. They're Jedi, and the Resistance needs them.”

“_He's_ not,” Poe says darkly.

Finn pauses, then sighs. “I've got to go. I'm on the duty roster for the next shift in Engineering.”

“I'm sorry I made you sore at me, buddy,” Poe says contritely. “I'm just calling it like I see it.”

“I know,” Finn says, voice quiet, resigned. “I guess we just see this differently.”

“For what it's worth,” Poe says, “I hope I'm wrong, and you're right.”

“I hope so too,” Finn says, and there's the sound of booted footsteps, and the whooshing of a door as they both exit the room.

Ben remains stuck in place, body shaking slightly. The heat from the shower has all evaporated, leaving a chill clinging to his skin.

_Nerve-burner_

_I hope I'm wrong and you're right. I hope so too. _

_She's not an idiot. _

_Her judgment would have to be clouded to have feelings for him in the first place … _

But … Rey does have feelings for Ben, doesn't she? Friendship, but more complex than that. They are united, connected by the Force, allies against the fear and loneliness and misery that has haunted them both all their lives, the fear and loneliness and misery that is embodied in the shriveled form of Snoke. They are bound in a way no one else can understand … but that doesn't mean they're bound in every way, does it?

_She's not an idiot. _

But Ben is an idiot. He must be. Because he'd almost forgotten what he is, and what he does not deserve.

He makes eye contact with himself in the mirror, his skin gone so white that the scar stands out angry red, like a freshly dealt wound, proclaiming, _this is what she really thinks of you_. His eyes are wild, deep with a hunger that he can never satisfy, that he does not deserve to satisfy. His hands are clenched into fists so tight they hurt; that's good, he wants to hurt, or be hurt. But he had promised he wouldn't, he promised … He digs his blunt fingernails into his skin and finds he can't even break through. He's lost the urge to bleed, or has he simply lost the will? It makes him feel weak, not strong. But what he cannot lose is the internal wounding of the words he was not meant to hear.

He has no one to blame for this but himself … he should not have listened.

But he did, and now he has to live with what he heard.


	3. watching over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han still watches his son sleep, sometimes.

Han still watches his son sleep, sometimes.

He knows he probably shouldn't, but sometimes it's not really a choice. Sometimes he just goes where the Force takes him and most often, the Force takes him to Ben's room, where the figure of his son is a heavily breathing hulk beneath a blanket. And at these times, Han Solo cannot help but stay and make sure Ben is all right.

There had been so many nights when his son was small when he had done the exact same thing. Hovering, peering at the boy's chest in the darkness to make sure it was rising and falling evenly, bending down to listen to the little one's breath. His fears, back then, had been nebulous and nameless; even as his baby boy tossed and twisted in restless nightmares, Han had never known that there was someone behind them. In death, this oversight, this failure haunts him. So to do all the nights when he was not there to check on Ben, when his only presence in his son's life was as a shaky hologram, saying goodnight from star systems away.

But he has been given a second chance, and now all his fears are specific, concrete, and thus somewhat easier to allay. Is Ben breathing? Yes. Has he hurt himself? No. Is he having a nightmare? Doesn't look like it.

Out of habit, Han moves quietly, trying not to wake the boy. Kind of silly, in a way. Han is not a physical being anymore, he doesn't make noise when he moves, and his son is not a boy, but a grown man. Size-wise, anyway.

Han remembers all those times years ago: holding his breath, fearful that even the smallest sound would disturb the peace his troubled child had finally managed to find in sleep. Well, he doesn't have to worry about holding his breath now. Ben took his breath away for the last time, very permanently. But the memory is strong, and Han remembers everything in death that he'd lost in life.

In some ways, he feels more alive now than he has ever been. He watches his son sleep, seeing him clearly, with more than eyes. He can _feel_ Ben, in a way he never could in life, a way he had always envied. He can feel his son in the Force. But it's not enough for a father's heart.

Han's hand, the shadow of a hand, reaches out to rest on the soft, tousled black hair spilling over Ben's face. The edge of an ear sticks out pale, just visible through the messy hair. Han lets himself trace the shape of that ear the way he used to do a thousand times when it was a smaller ear attached to a smaller person. Just as he always used to do, he smiles down at his sleeping son.

Ben sighs and shifts in his sleep and Han retreats, calling off the ghost of a touch, observing from a distance once again. He thinks of every innumerable time before this, watching Ben sleep, holding him while he slept, all those years ago when he was still small enough to hold. A tiny person breathing in and out, a whole world in Han's arms. He remembers being absolutely blown away, demolished and rebuilt in moments at how much he loved that boy.

He'd never imagined he could love anything more than that baby. But his imagination had been limited. It turns out his love grew as his son did. It turns out he loves the big, lumbering, grown-up son who killed him even more than he loved the fat baby whose only crime was throwing up on his dad sometimes, or kicking him in his sleep. It is a deep, ferocious love for his deep, ferocious son. And it has survived the grave.

Now, Han reflects, watching Ben grumble and mash his face into his pillow, he just has to make sure his son survives, and maybe one day gets to feel any kind of love like this.


End file.
